A Touch of Madness
by SalaciousCrumb
Summary: Ivan is an obsessive compulsive millionaire, Yao is his therapist. A story about madness, the struggles of recovery and love overcoming fear. Ivan/Yao, AU.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Don't touch me.

That's the first rule for anyone that wants to work here. You have to stay away. You can talk to me, you can even be in the same room as me, depending on how I feel. But I don't want to be touched.

It's not because I'm afraid of them, it's because I'm afraid of _me_. Of what I'm capable of.

I don't care how many psychiatrists diagnose me, tell me that I'm not a threat and that it's 'all in my head,' there's always that chance. The 'one percent' I call it. The one percent chance that everything I fear I am could be true.

My new therapist seems nice. He's a chinese man, tall and lyth with flawless pale skin and deep, dark eyes. Exactly my type... if I still could. I don't like him being here though, I tolerate the servants because I've grown up with most of them and their families, as I'm used to them the fear isn't as great. Most of them live on site, some with their partners, they can't bring their children of course, that's a _big_ trigger for me. The smaller and more gentle something is, the more afraid I am to be around it. One of my guards, Gilbert used to keep birds in an aviary in one of my gardens. I was so afraid to go near them, bombarded by images of plucking their little yellow feathers, of holding them too tightly, or of blacking out and awakening to discover I had done something horrible...

So I stopped going into the garden and eventually I was even afraid to look at them through the window. To hear their singing in the mornings. It terrified me. My stomach would lurch and twist and I would have to go to a different room, _anywhere_ so I couldn't hear it. The more I tried to avoid them, the worse the images became. Eventually they became so frequent and violent that I demanded Gilbert take the birds away.

I still paid for him to keep them, but at his house. He lives with Roderich, a man who often plays the concerts here. The house is fairly big, with an equally large garden, so they should be fine.

Still I feel guilty, they _did_ have more room here.

I live in a castle, it's been in my family for several hundreds or years and is the pride of the city. My lifestyle is sustained purely from the revenue I get from letting it out for concerts. I rarely come down to see them of course, but I listen from my room. It soothes me. A dance is being held in the ballroom in a couple of months, I would have loved to go to that.

I used to love dancing.

* * *

The room is large and well furnished, it used to be a study but now it's mostly used for my therapy.

I go through therapists rather quickly, which is usually attributed to (or so my medical records suggest) my 'unwillingness to cooperate.'

It's not unwillingness, it's _fear_. Plain and simple.

Imagine everyday, all you can picture and all you can think about is a train crash. You throw yourself in front of the train and it splatters you beyond recognition across the tracks. Well, that's what I have, only in this case, I _am_ the train. I am the danger.

Still, given the chance, even the smallest chance that these sessions could help me get better, _anything_ would be worth it. It's one of the things I most dislike about myself, the mental 'tradeoffs' I make. Hours can be occupied making lists of the things I would give up to be normal. Would I rather be like me...or legless? Or deaf? Or blind? Sometimes I play with other mental illnesses, compare myself to schizophrenics and sociopaths, but of course I always end up worrying that I am both of these.

"Are we ready to begin?"

My thoughts are interrupted by Yao, smiling, holding a pen and tapping it against his sheet as he welcomes me. He's living here in the castle for the time being, in one the spare bedrooms.

Arthur hired him, apparently he's a specialist in my disorder.

Arthur is my butler and a big proponent of CBT, or cognitive behavioral therapy. He's been on at me to get a new therapist ever since his boyfriend Alfred, was cured of his debilitating phobia, which I later discovered was his fear of 'communism.'

Sighing I take a seat.

"So Mr Braginski - "

"Ivan."

"Excuse me?"

I smile. I like his voice, it's polite and crisp, still with a hint of an accent.

"Whilst you are working here, this castle is your home. I'd rather you call me by my first name."

"Okay then, _Ivan_. Is there anything else I should be informed of before we begin?"

I look at him and shudder. I am large and bear like, well over six foot, with huge shoulders and arms. I do a lot of exercise on bequest of a previous therapist who said it would help my mental state. It does, but it doesn't help me feel like less of a threat. I've thought about it many times and I truly do have the capacity to kill. No one in this castle could take me, even if they were armed, I could out-muscle them.

Yao is long and willowy, his skin looks soft, and his bones slight. I flinch as my mind mentally snaps them.

"Don't touch me."

I manage finally, trying to suppress the mental pictures that have started to drown me. Yao notices my discomfort and leans forward.

"It's okay." He says gently, looking me directly in the eyes, "take three deep breathes." I do so and calm down, if only slightly. "I won't make you do anything you don't want to. I promise I won't touch you without your express permission, your butler already said you were afraid of contact."

I move my chair back a little as my brain starts going over every possible situation that could make me a danger to Yao. I considered asking Arthur to get something attached to this chair, something that might hold me down, just in case.

"Please, sit closer." He lifts his hands up, "I'm not going to touch you, just see if you can move a little closer."

I shake my head.

"It's not for my safety, it's for yours."

"We'll see." Yao smiles at me and I exhale. It doesn't phase him. Of course he's a specialist, so I shouldn't be surprised, but it's still relieving. If he isn't afraid, perhaps that will make it a little easier for _me_ to be brave.

In some ways this illness is like a spell, no, more like a curse. I've become the nightmare...the beast. Still all curses can be broken and maybe, just maybe Yao will be the one to break mine.

* * *

**Author Notes:**

**.Ivan has OCD, or obsessive compulsive disorder. I've done a lot of research on all the different types of mental disorders and it struck me that OCD especially is misrepresented in the media. OCD is characterised by obsessive thoughts and fears and the compulsions that follow are reactions to these thoughts, it is not about having to alphabetisize your books. **

**.Inspired by the television show 'My Mad Fat Diary', I personally suffer from panic attacks and was moved by how carefully and accurately they were portrayed. Because of this I thought to tackle a couple of the other mental health problems that don't get the limelight, or are poorly misrepresented.**

**.Love to know what any of you think and feel free to suggest a mental illness to include within the fic. Can be one you have, one that you feel is misrepresented, or one you are just interested in! I intend to include a couple of others.**

**Thanks for reading! LP.**


	2. Session one

**Session One**

The first therapy session proceeded as most of them do. 'It's just your OCD' - 'Intrusive thoughts occur in most of the general population' - 'real psycho's don't worry about or resist their thoughts.'

I don't think they realise that the only thing that could possibly be worse than living like this, is if I were to actually harm someone. I _know _it's unlikely, but unlikely isn't good enough. I want _certainty_. I want to leave the house and know nothing can go wrong, that even if I get the urge to harm someone, it will never, _ever _happen. But as multiple therapists have pointed out, that level of certainty doesn't exist in this world. The only way to get better is to live with the doubt.

That's just _not _a risk I'm willing to take.

I _do _like Yao though. He has a sense of humour about this disorder that I haven't encountered before. For instance, he has no problem telling me that there is nothing intrusive about his desire 'to smack that british man a new face.' Apparently Arthur keeps correcting his pronunciation and Yao, for whom English is a second language, is beginning to take offense.

"Arthur's not racist,"I explain, "he does it to everyone. Especially Alfred, his boyfriend. I've heard them have _huge _fights over the correct pronunciation of the word 'oregano'."

"I'm surprised Alfred hasn't committed a crime of passion." Yao grumbles, cutting through his chicken.

We're having dinner together, Yao said he wanted to observe how my disorder affects my day to day living. He hasn't said anything, but I can't imagine it's looking good for me.

"Ivan, you haven't even touched your food."

"Da, I will eat it when you leave."

I look down and he understands instantly. It's the knife. This is the one of the few occasions when I can't bring myself to be in the same room with anyone else or my mind creates all kinds of nasty scenarios. At this very moment even though Yao is the one using the knife, my mind is still sending me over to that table, grabbing the knife and slicing into his neck. It makes me feel physically ill. I try to replace it with a better though, mentally I try to swap the knife for flowers, or turn it into a styrofoam gag sword. It does nothing, the thought remains and I begin to worry. The same worry that has haunted me for the past seven years.

What if I secretly _like _the thoughts?

Yao notices how uncomfortable I am and frowns, "I am a guest in this castle, I can eat somewhere else." He begins to remove himself from the table.

"No!" I stand quickly, before panicking and sitting down, "I can eat later. Your company…I enjoy it."

Yao nods and sits back down in his seat. I brace myself against the table, feeling a little sick. I'm not used to _that. _When I asked Yao not to leave, for just one split second I wasn't under control, wasn't planning every small movement intensely.

I get moments like these sometimes, they are rare and at the time they are almost pleasant. No one can describe to you the absolute relief that can be gained from even one single second spent not worrying, not imagining the things you love and care about coming to harm in every way imaginable.

Before my OCD emerged I didn't realise just how creative I could be. That I could experience this kind of mental agony and come up with so many new scenarios and images to torture myself with.

I spend most of the day thinking, putting myself in situations to see how I would react to whatever fear happens to be playing on my mind the most. It usually ends with me asking how far I would go not to die, in dire situations could I bring myself to rape, murder….or something even worse?

That's why I need complete control.

"Ivan," I look up in panic. Yao has moved from his place and is now stood next to me. He's not that near, but my mind closes the proximity. The knife is still in his hand.

I begin to hyperventilate and gag, "Go! Please!" I beg, before my words fall into a gargle of incomprehensible Russian. I start to panic more. This is it. This is what I feared. I'm losing control.

Yao thinks momentarily, "If I take a step back and put down the knife, you need to know it's not because I'm afraid of you. It's because I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

I nod frantically and tears pour from my eyes. Part of me doesn't believe him. It's the one percent again. The big 'what if?' What if people don't want it to be true, they don't want to believe I'm a psycho, or they're lying to me because I'm rich and I'm much less dangerous like this than if I let my true self go.

Yao puts the knife down on the table and I leave the room.

I can't take it.

* * *

Therapy that day is intense, Yao won't take his eyes off of me.

"I'm sorry." I begin, but he puts his hand up to stop me.

"Don't apologise. I'm here to help you." He says gently, before adding with a hint of a smile, "and you are _paying _me. I am hardly doing you a favor."

I shrug.

Yao sighs, "You've been through a lot of therapists and so I know you are aware that the ultimate goal of this therapy is to have you eventually face your fears. If we were a little further along I might have asked you to handle the knife."

"No. That can't happen."

"This particular form of CBT, response/prevention therapy, mostly works by putting you in uncomfortable situations -"

I snort, 'uncomfortable' is putting it lightly.

"- and having you sit with the anxiety, without me reassuring you. We need to get to the point where you're happy to let the thoughts pass. To accept them and not worry about them, or correct them or…"

I stop him there. "I can't do that. I have to be _sure_."

Yao shuts his eyes. His eyelashes are long and dark and momentarily I'm struck by how beautiful he looks.

It doesn't last long, my mind begins to panic, it starts to picture those same eyes bleeding. I get up to leave.

"Ivan." Yao stops me.

"Can't stay here." I manage between heavy breathing.

"Are you thinking about harming me?"

"Yes." Maybe this will do it, maybe if he knows it's him I'm picturing he'll finally understand.

"That's fine, I am _fine _with that. You are not a dangerous man Ivan, you are a _good _man."

I waver, I'm desperate to leave the study and lock myself safely away in my bedroom. I force myself to pause. I want to, no _have _to leave. But there is something so sure about his eyes, so honest and kind... it almost makes me want to trust him.

"How can you be so sure about me? About the kind of person that I am?"

His voice is soft and certain; "Evil doesn't worry about not being _good._"

Without a word I sit back down.

* * *

**. Reviews are loved. Once again feel free to recommend or ask for anything you might like to see in this fic!**


	3. Session Two

**Session Two**

"What's your biggest fear?"

"Hurting someone."

"Anyone in particular?"

I think for a moment. There's an obvious answer for me, but I'm afraid to speak. I want to lie because it's horrible to say out loud. Even knowing the worries I've had makes me _hate _myself .

"People with OCD never act on their obsessions. Remember, I've heard it all before, I won't judge you…"

Yao is trying to be kind but it doesn't make it any easier. I'm not worried about anyone judging me, I just want to like _myself_. To go back to a time when I felt like a good person. It's stupid, but admitting that I've had these fears out loud somehow makes them seem more real.

"Children...harming them in any way. Physically, emotionally, sexually…" I almost vomit on the words. "That would be my biggest fear."

To my great surprise Yao smiles. I frown. "I don't see how this is anything to be smiling at."

"The greatest thing about being human is also the most tragic. No matter how alone you feel, there are always thousands of others just like you."

_I'm different, _my mind whispers sinisterly. _With me it's real._

"Everyone always thinks their worries are unique," Yao looks at me knowingly. "People always come to me so sure that this time it's different. It never is. Fear of hurting a child one of the most common fears amongst those with harm OCD, especially amongst new mothers. OCD always chooses something the person really cares about - or the thing they would be most disgusted to do - it _lives _off fear."

"I couldn't cope. With a child, I could never look after one, I'd be too afraid…"

"Would you like to be a father?"

"Once I thought it might be nice. Although it was always unlikely given my _preferences_."

Yao smirks, "I suspected we both might share a certain open mindness."

So Yao is gay too. He seems rather amused by the revelation, I'm not. I know I'm attracted to Yao, but I don't like the knowledge that in some alternative world he might actually like me back, a world where I wouldn't be afraid to hold him, kiss him, or even just hold his hand. The thought saps the energy from me and I suddenly feel low. Frowning I try to shift my thoughts to the topic at hand.

"I did always think I might like to adopt though. I have so much wealth and little use for it. I could have a been a good father once."

"You still might be," Yao says kindly.

I don't want to respond, even if this gets better. I can't see myself getting to a place where that could be a possible, where I wouldn't be too afraid.

Fortunately Yao doesn't question me any further and instead changes the subject.

" So when did you realise…?"

"That I was gay?" I smile, pleased by his interest.

Yao nods and I think;

"Marlon Brando...it was that shirtless scene in a 'Streetcar Named Desire'." I feel my body heat up a little at the memory.

Yao folds his arms, "Good choice. Sadly my first crush was none so honourable."

"Go on?"

"Zac Efron."

I laugh, "Oh dear."

Yao nods, "I was never bothered by being homosexual, only the fact that I might have exceedingly poor taste. It never stopped me from thinking he was dreamy, though."

I feel a smile twitch at my lips, "We've all been there."

Yao leans forward with interest. I feel a small spike of anxiety begin to travel up my back,"Please, continue."

"You know the Harry Potter films…"

Yao smirks knowingly, "I should imagine every self respecting gay man does! Who'd have thought Neville would grow up to look like _that._"

I laugh, " for me it was Draco Malfoy. Especially in the sixth film."

Yao's eyes light up and weirdly I feel a pang of jealousy.

"Are you talking about that bit in the bathroom where he's in the white top, all wet and…" He trails off happily.

"I feel like we might be getting a bit off topic." Seeing Yao looking so hot and bothered is..._distracting_.

Yao blinks, "Yes, uh...I suppose we are." He pulls some papers off the desk before continuing, "I've been thinking about exposure activities for you to do."

I shake my head.

"Don't worry. Given your extreme fear of touching anyone, I've planned them carefully, to try and get us as far as possible, without you having to make contact."

I let out a sigh of relief.

"It is _still _our ultimate goal of coursel."

I grimace, but I don't argue. This is fine for now.

"Until then, aside from the exposure activities we can do in this office, I would also like you to attend group therapy."

* * *

I really, _really _don't want to go. I haven't left the house in a very _long _time. Maybe once, or twice a year and only in an absolute _emergency_.

We're taking the car of course, but even stepping out the house takes a lot of effort. Everything in my body tightens.

Yao smiles at me encouragingly, he must have noticed my shaking, "That's it, just a little further Ivan."

I swallow.

It's hard to say no to Yao.

He's not like the other therapists, usually after our sessions they just returned to their room - they hardly spoke to me. I know they were only doing what they were supposed too and some of them tried very hard, but I never felt like I wanted to impress them. It's been a long time since I've wanted to impress anyone.

My mother moved back to Russia after my father died. She wanted me to sell the estate and go with her, but I couldn't. By then my anxiety had gone into overdrive and since then I've had no one. My servants are lovely, but they have their own families and lives... it feels strange to have someone that seems to care so much just about _me_.

I imagine how wonderful it would be if I could get well enough to reach out and touch Yao. Not just because he's beautiful, but because he is trying so hard to help me and I don't want to let him down.

So I force myself to keep moving and eventually I make it into the car.

Toris greets us with a wave. Toris is my personal driver, although his jobs actually extend much further than that. He also gets in the food and anything else the other servants might need. He's a slight, shy man, but very kind. Out of all the servants he is probably my favourite.

"It's really good to see you out, sir," He gives me an encouraging smile as Yao takes a seat next to him in the front.

The drive isn't as stressful as it could have been. The car has three different rows of seats and I'm right at the back. Yao tries to encourage me to take the middle and sit closer, but of course I decline - I feel uncomfortable sitting that close to the wheel. The rest of the drive passes in silence, aside from the occasional question from Yao, politely asking Toris about his work.

Finally we arrive at our destination. I had been expecting the white blocks of a hospital, but to my surprise we pull up outside of a church. Yao quickly explains that this is because these group therapy sessions are free, he helps run them instead of doing shifts at the free clinic in the hospital he actually works at.

Everyone else has already arrived when we talk in. Ten men and woman sat in a large circle of plastic chairs at the front.

"Good morning everyone, this is Ivan." Yao introduces me and I try to smile.

"Hello, Ivan it is so very nice to meet you." A small redheaded man gets up to speak to me. My stomach twists, what if he tries to shake my hand, or hug me? I turn pleadingly towards Yao.

"Feli, be careful not to touch Ivan, okay? He is very afraid of contact."

"But I only wanted to shake his hand and I would be so gentle. Ludwig lets me help groom his dogs sometimes and I never hurt them!"

Yao looks at me questioningly, I think he's asking if it's okay to tell them about my problem.

I shake my head. I don't want to share anything with these strangers. I know it's hypocritical, but it's hard enough to share my feelings with Yao and he at least he knows about my condition. It's selfish but I miss having friends and I don't want these new people to think I'm a danger...no matter how much I might worry about it myself.

"I have a thing about germs." I quickly lie, before anyone can press the matter.

Yao frowns, but he doesn't dispute it. Sighing I take a seat, this is going to be a long day.

* * *

**Reviews are loved :).**


	4. Chapter Three

**Session Three**

Group therapy mostly centers around talking about things that make us happy, or help us deal with anxiety. At this moment Feliciano is doing most of the talking, telling us about his PTSD and how he tries to cope with it.

"I try to think that I appreciate the little things more than most people. Like most people want a big house, or a nice car."

Everyone looks at me and I feel guilt rise as an uncomfortable pressure in my head.

Feliciano doesn't seem to notice the stares and continues on determinedly, "But I am happy so long as I feel I can get out of bed in the morning, so long as I can feel the sun of a hot day without having to worry about any of my memories. I think it is nice that I can feel so happy about something so simple."

The woman next to him, Elizaveta, folds her arms, "Well I am fucking sick of appreciating the little things. I want to dream big. I'm sick of appreciating every normal moment in my life. Before I had this I was going to join the army, I was going to have adventures. Now I'm supposed to feel pleased that I've recovered enough to not want to kill myself? Fuck do I feel grateful."

Feli's begins to crumple and tears started streaming from his eyes, "I am so sorry Eliza, I know you had given up so much...I-I was just trying to be helpful. Sometimes when I feel really bad I try to act happy and smile. I think if I smile for long enough perhaps I'll start really feeling it. I didn't mean too..."

Elizaveta replies before he can continue. "No, I'm sorry Feli. What you said was right. I'm just...a year ago everything was so different. I guess I'm just sad I can't got back to what I was like then." She stands up and goes to give him a hug, sighing, "perhaps I should be a little more like you, maybe then things wouldn't seem so dark. I'm just sick of feeling trapped inside of my own fucking head?"

I know that feeling. From everything else I've heard this session Elizaveta got rejected from the army after a psychologist realized she had bipolar disorder. Long periods of depression followed by worrying bouts of mania, sometimes coupled with paranoid delusions.

I look at her face; defiant eyes underlined by dark circles and gritted teeth. Out of everyone here she's the most aggressively resistant to what she has. She works three jobs and has therapy twice a week, as well as these free sessions with Yao and she takes her medication religiously. She talks about her disorder as if it was not a part of her, more an opponent, a rival to crush.

Earlier I heard her talking about giving up her martial arts to make more time to fight it, I wonder how Gilbert would feel if I added her to the staff. He's been nagging me for ages to hire someone else for security. I'm fairly sure he just wants a tough drinking buddy, but he does work long shifts...

"Elizaveta?" Everyone went silent. This was the first time I had spoken since I sat down.

"Yes, Ivan?" She replies, the surprise palpable in her voice.

"I heard you talk about wanting to join the army and about giving up your martial arts. What formal combat training do you have?"

She smiles and her eyes light up, "Five years boxing, ten years Brazilian Jiu-jitsu and twelve years Krav Maga. I've been county champion in the first two and state in the last."

"You must be very good then?"

"Not good enough," She's still smiling but it's rueful, "Not good enough to be in the Olympics or really make any money out of it."

"You could like, always try 'foxy boxing'," Feliks, a small blond man sat opposite to me, flicks his hair and smiles lazily, "you like totally have the body for it."

"Thanks." She replies dryly.

Whilst this is going on I think of the best way to phrase this. "I have a guard at my castle, Gilbert. He's strong, but…"

I try to think of the word. Gilbert can fight, although his CV was 'colourful' to say the least. Plenty of photographs included of scars he has obtained and an impressive mud-wrestling play by play. Nonetheless, Gilbert is intimidating and given the size and wealth of my home when we did have a few opportunistic thieves he was able to deal with them successfully.

"...He hasn't had any formal training."

Elizaveta nods knowingly, "A bar brawler, right?"

"Exactly. If you are looking for work I'm sure Gilbert would benefit from a few lessons and perhaps someone to poke him if he falls asleep on duty. It might not be as exciting as what you might wish for but…"

"Are you being serious?"

I nod, "I've been meaning to increase security for a long time."

"If you really want to hire me then that would be wonderful. If I'm going to have to work three jobs it would be nice to finally enjoy one of them." She stands up from her chair and I feel my stomach lurch.

"Elizaveta, remember Ivan does not like to be touched," Yao reminds her.

"Oh, yes," She sits back down, "Sorry Ivan."

"It's fine."

I look over to Yao, he's smiling at me warmly. Tentatively I smile back, momentarily unable to look away.

'Thank you' I mouth and he shrugs

The session continues for another forty minutes before concluding. It was actually nice, in a slightly sick way, to hear that there are other people like me. Not the same disorders, but other people that struggle. For instance, the youngest of all of us Lili is only sixteen and she has to wear earphones almost constantly because of her misophonia, which is basically an extreme intolerance to certain sounds. Although she seems like a very gentle girl, she constantly worries about lashing out at her family even when they do the most normal things. When Feliciano let out a long yawn half way through the meeting I could her clench up and her face scrunch in agitation.

I try to smile at her as she gets up to leave, I know what it's like to worry about lashing out.

A couple of people stay around to chat and I wait whilst Yao makes his way round, talking to people and checking in with others. I stand rather awkwardly against a wall. I feel a little anxious, but actually a lot better than when I first arrived. I was initially so terrified of being around so many people that I nearly ran back out the door a couple of times. Everytime one of them spoke my brain would turn to them and conjure up the nastiest things. I tried to do what Yao suggests and let the anxiety pass and not check. So I tried not to engage with the thoughts, not to go over every possible situation just to make sure that I would never ever hurt them. I failed a couple of times, but I did eventually manage to force myself to focus on what the speaker was saying. I feel a warm rush of victory bubble in my stomach.

"Hello Ivan, did you enjoy the session to day?"

My feeling of victory quickly turns to one of panic, Feli is stood barely inches away from me. I take a couple of steps back. I feel as if I'm going to vomit.

"Do not worry Ivan, I am not touching you, see - he holds his hands out to demonstrate this fact.

I don't think he realises the proximity itself is enough. Well of course he doesn't, I already lied and told him that It's because I don't like germs.

"Okay Felciano, just stay a couple of steps back okay? Germs can...jump." I finish lamely, but he just nods happily and bounces back.

I can see him opening his mouth to speak again, but before he can start the church door swings open.

"Feliciano!" An angry looking man stomps forward, "how long are you going to be, I have work in twenty minutes."

"Oh I am so sorry Lovino, I just got so distracted talking to my good friend Ivan here. He is very quiet, but very nice -"

Lovino sighs, "Feli you already have that potato eating bastard Ludwig, surely you do not need another muscle bound," He looks at me a second second, clearly taking into account how much larger I am than him he finishes in Italian, "carogna."

"Oh no, do not be silly Lovino. Ivan is lovely, but I love Ludwig. Oh please do not tell me you think he would be jealous." He looks scandalised and begins babbling hopelessly, "oh no Ivan, I hope I did not lead you on. But you see I love Ludwig so much, and even though I am sure you are a, er 'catch'-"

Noticing the confrontation Yao walks over to intervene, "Feliciano do not worry, I am sure Ivan will learn to love again."

He winks at me and I laugh.

Lovino doesn't looked convinced; "come on Feli, I cannot afford to waste any more time here."

Feliciano nods and follows him quickly out the door.

"He seems friendly." I deadpan, gesturing to where Lovino had been stood.

"You mean dear Lovino? No, he isn't the cheeriest cherry in the jar. He has his reasons though and I know he cares about his brother very much. He's been working several jobs to help pay for treatment."

"What about Feli or his boyfriend Ludwig? Don't they have jobs."

Yao shakes his head, "Feli's PTSD is too severe to work. He may be fine for months but if he has a flashback he can be in a bad place for a very long time. Ludwig works night-shifts as a security guard, It's enough for the bills and food, but his health coverage is minimal and won't cover Feli's therapy."

I frown feeling very guilty. I have had my choice of therapists and I still can't get better

"Ivan, your situation and Feli's are very different. You would be no less treatment resistant if you were poor."

I shrug, "I don't suppose there is anything I could do to help, I have a lot of money and I already offered Elizaveta a job…"

Yao smiles, "That is very kind, but Lovino is a very proud man. I have offered my services before, Feliciano seemed enthusiastic but Lovino told me that 'they didn't need my pity.'

"It is not Lovino's choice."

"Feli loves his brother dearly, I don't think he wants to hurt his feelings."

"I just wish there was some way I could help." I really, really do, it doesn't seem fair that someone as lovely as Feliciano has to deal with all of this.

Yao sighs and gives me a sympathetic look, "I do too, Ivan."

* * *

The journey home cheers us both us substantially. After waiting for everyone else to leave, me and Yao exited the building only to discover Feliks chatting quite animatedly with Toris, who is leant on the side of the car and looking rather bemused.

"Oh my gawd! Ivan, like you didn't tell me you had such a totally cute driver!"

Toris blushes and out of the corner of my eye I notice Yao smirk.

"Like at first," Feliks continues, "I thought you would be super scary, or super boring, but I totally misjudged you. You must be crazy smart to have hired a sexy, macho guy like Toris here. He is, like, the cutest."

I laugh and watch Toris stammer something that sounds like thank you, as he turns increasingly dark shades of red.

This continues for a couple more minutes before Yao finally suggests that we had better get going. It sounds horrible but I really hope neither of them offer Feliks a lift, he seems like a lovely guy, but Yao is already sitting in the front and I prefer as much distance between me and the people in the car as possible. Even someone sitting in the middle row makes me feel anxious.

Thankfully neither of them do, Yao gets in without a word and Toris is still too flustered to say anything vaguely resembling fluency.

"So what do you think of Feliks?" Yao asks slyly as we pull away from the church and begin the drive home.

"He seems very...unique." Toris says after some moments. He thinks for a second before adding, "Feliks isn't crazy or anything, is he…?"

"No, none of my clients are." Yao replies coldly and despite my fondness for Toris I feel an instant pang of warmth. Hearing Yao defend Feliks like that makes me feel like Yao is being honest with me, that he really does think I am a good person.

I smile despite myself.

"I didn't mean that, it's just...he asked me on a date and well...I think I'd like to go."

* * *

"Ivan may I have a word?" Yao asks as we step back through the door.

He seems uncharacteristically nervous and I wonder uncomfortably what he wants to talk about. The OCD part of my brain tells me that he's about to inform me that I really am a danger, but I think about what he said in the car, the way he defended Feliks and I decide it can't be true.

"Of course."

"It says on your file that you have refused to take any medication, may I ask why?"

Oh. That.

"I don't want to take it, I'm worried it will change me."

Yao looks confused, "Change you how? Anxiety medication changes your moods, it doesn't have any substantial effect on personality."

I hold up a hand to silence him, "I know that. It sounds ridiculous, but I'm worried about not worrying…"

"What do you mean?"

"I feel like if I'm not thinking every second about the reasons I'm not a danger and why I'm not going to harm someone, that If I dare to think about something else...that I might do something horrible without realising it. That I might lose control. It's stupid but I can't help it."

Yao looks like he wants to walk closer to me, but he resists, "Please Ivan, don't call yourself stupid."

I shrug, I feel stupid.

"You said most of the general population have these thoughts, If I'm the only one that worries about them then I must be stupid."

"Ivan!" I look up, Yao is blazing. "Stop it. How many times do I have to say this. You are a good person, you are nice, you gave Elizaveta a job, you wanted to help Feli."

"That doesn't mean I'm not stupid."

"You have a disorder, a mental disorder. I have spent hours in therapy with you, I think I would know if you were an idiot."

"Yes but - "

I try to counter but he interrupts me, "Okay then Ivan? Is Elizaveta stupid because she can't control her mood swings? Is little Lili stupid because she can't stand hearing certain sounds? What do you think about Feli, is he stupid, should he just get over it?"

His words make me feel sick, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that."

"No, Ivan. Don't be sorry, please. I'm not trying to make you feel bad, what I am trying to make you realise is that your disorder is not you. You a good, kind, smart man," His anger subsides and he breaks into a smile, "you just need to stop listening your thoughts." Yao runs a hand through his hair, "honestly Ivan, do you think I would spend so much time with someone I thought was a monster."

"Yao, you're a therapist. It's your job."

"Ivan I don't have dinner with most of my patients, I don't watch films with them, or share stories about my embarrassing homosexual crushes." For a moment he seems hesitant, but he continues regardless, "I like you Ivan. I really, really, really...like you."

For neither of us say anything. Yao looks at me refusing to break eye contact. I feel my body heat up and finally I turn my head away whispering, "I like you too.


	5. Session Five

**Session Four**

I touched Yao.

Just fingertips, light and only for a moment. Of course I panicked so much that I had to quickly check that I hadn't wanted to snap them off and continued to worry about it all evening.

But…

I still did it. I still _touched _Yao.

I sobbed endlessly afterwards, because it _was _terrifying.

Yao beamed at me, "That was very brave Ivan."

Of course I just cried harder.

I wish I could explain to Yao that I'm not brave, that I am the furthest thing from brave there is. Brave is fighting wars, or dieing for the person you love, or even just going against the majority for something you believe in. Not learning to react normally to scary thoughts.

Sometimes I like to pretend that me and Yao are in a movie. That my mental illness makes me beautiful and broken and interesting, instead of just afraid and ill. That we could fall in love and my problems would disappear.

But that hasn't happened. It's been three weeks and despite my feelings for Yao, I'm _still _terrified. In some ways more afraid than before, because I care about Yao and so the thought of hurting him is just that much more unbearable.

Yao has become my dream. If I could have _anything_ it would be justto hold him. To stroke his hair and not worry about yanking it, kiss his mouth and not worry about biting it, to wrap my body around his and to think nothing, except that I am the luckiest man alive.

Unlike in the movies, my dream won't just come true, I have to meet it halfway. My feelings for Yao may not make my problems go away, but in a weird way they inspire a determination in me. A determination that pushes me to spend hours doing exposure therapy. To sit closer to him, hold knives in another person's presence and read the articles about unthinkable crimes, over and over again, in hope that this time I won't check, I won't obsess and I won't panic.

I try to let the anxiety wash over me without checking whether or not I secretly like what I'm doing. Most of the time I fail and I hate myself for it. But it is almost worth it for the times that I succeed. The times when I refuse to check and I shake and stammer and feel the anxiety churn in my guy, when I vomit and sob...but I don't give in...and if I do, I do it all again.

And little by little I _have _started to notice a difference.

The thoughts and worries are still almost constant, but my anxiety has subsided just a _little_. I can never brush anything off, but I can do my exposure tasks more easily. The thoughts still make me feel horrible, but it's a lesser horrible….and most of all I don't feel so trapped in my own mind. My anxiety is slowly starting to feel more like a part of me, a very big, unmanageable part - but perhaps it isn't who I am. I've started to feel like maybe there really is more to me, maybe all the wonderful things Yao says about me could have some truth. .

It's still hell, but it is a slightly lesser, colder hell.

Yao wants me to try and do this every day, brush against his fingertips, until I can try and touch his hand. The thought makes me want to vomit. But I will. I _know _I will.

I can't fight Yao as I could the other therapists. It's not that I wasn't trying back then, I was trying with all my goddamn might. I'm not getting better just because Yao's a good therapist, I'm getting better I have someone I care about. This doesn't make it any less frightening, in some ways it makes it worse.

But what it does do - is make me want to take the risk. Because by not risking anything, I am risking everything. Before I could lock myself up and recede into myself. I can't do that anymore, Yao has made it _impossible _to do that.

I don't expect Yao to love me, but one day I would love to tell him how much I _care_ about him and thank him for everything he's done.

* * *

Three days later I attended another session of group therapy.

I actually enjoy these sessions. It's nice to get close to other people, even if I'm still not ready to talk about myself. Everyone here is so wonderful, a little weird maybe, but they are all still good people. They don't deserve what they are going through. It's heartbreaking to hear Felix talk about his borderline-personality- disorder. About how he fears abandonment, about how sometimes he can't control his moods and he feels like he has no control over himself. He describes it as being as if another, _darker, _him has taken over - as if he's trapped inside another persons mind and he cannot escape.

Felix finishes his story with a laugh and makes me promise not to tell Toris - which of course I won't. In some ways it shocks me, that anyone as seemingly lighthearted and nonchalant as Felix could be dealing with something so hard. To see him try to hide it, to try and keep going on with life. That's something I never had the strength to do.

Elizaveta is the most cheerful at the meeting today, speaking excitedly about starting her job next week (she had to give two weeks notice at her last job). It makes me feel warm when I see how happy she is. My illness has always made me rather useless so it's nice to be able to make a difference, even if it's only for one person.

Then there's Feliciano, who as usual chatting happily about how much he loves his family and how supportive they are and of course how little money they have. He rarely talks about his illness itself, which is strange, he seems like such an open person. I have to admit I am curious about what he has been through...but at the same time I couldn't stand it if Yao forced me to speak, so I won't do that to him. What I can do however, is help with his current situation. I spoke with Yao about trying to convince Feliciano to take my money, Yao insists he won't do it. So I thought, what if he doesn't know I'm giving the money to him, what if he 'wins' it off me. Yao was skeptical at first, but I said I would consider going on medication if he helped me and finally he agreed.

"Today's focus is on 'things that make us feel safe,' - " I blink as Yao's voice pulls my attention back to the meeting at hand.

'Things that make us feel safe'... I _never _feel safe. I feel my breathing quicken and my stomach bubble with stress. In the background I hear Feliciano babble on about the comforts of pasta and Lili quietly mention her older brothers gun.

Before I can think of an excuse it is already my turn. I I freeze and my body clamps as everyone looks at me expectantly. My throat seizes up, I can't possibly answer this,. I've been masquerading as a germaphobe, perhaps I can joke and say 'a new bottle of 'Dettol' or somthing. But I don't want to lie to them, not after they've all been so honest with me. As the panic begins to overflow, I hear a voice.

It's Yao.

"Ivan, if you don't mind, perhaps I could have your turn."

The panic melts away from me like ice and eventually I am able to nod. If I could, if I had the courage, I would run and hug him for saving me...again.

Yao smiles and his warm brown eyes meet mine, "Ivan is what makes me feel safe."

My heart stops.

"Yea, I bet it's like, having your own personal attack-bear, or something," Felix chimes in, flicking his hair.

Yao gently shakes his head." It is not Ivan's size that makes me feel so safe. It is that he is so kind and brave that if anything happened, I know he would protect me." His face becomes tinged with pink, but he doesn't avert his gaze.

"Just like Ludwig!" Feliciano squeals in delight.

Yao's smile curves secretly, "Yes Feli, just like Ludwig."

* * *

The rest of the meeting passes quickly. I try to listen, but I'm too distracted by Yao's words. Ludwig is Feliciano's _boyfriend_. Did he mean to make that comparison? I...my brain wants to poison the words, call them lies, or tell me that Yao just meant that I am _big _like Ludwig. But I think about his words _'...kind...brave...' _and I think about his smile and something in my gut tells me that this is right, and so for the first time in forever I decide to something unthinkable. I decide to trust my heart.

I'm almost so distracted by my feelings that I almost forget to carry out my plans with Feliciano. Luckily he bounds up to me after the meeting.

"Oh Ivan, how nice of Yao to say those things about you!"

I smile, "Yes it is. This Ludwig of yours sounds wonderful, I am lucky to be compared to him."

The word 'Ludwig' seems to strike a chord inside of Feliciano and he instantly lights up, "Oh he is Ivan! He is so kind and gentle, well with me anyway, and oh my gosh Ivan, his _muscles." _He sighs dreamily, "They are fantastico!"

I laugh, before remembering my plan. "By the way Feliciano, I meant to ask...you seem like a very er, wiley young man, how would you be interested in making a little bet. Perhaps we could have a game or something."

"Oh I would so love to play a game with you, Ivan!" He turns his head away from me, sadly, "but I cannot, because Lovino works so hard for me and...and I cannot bet his money."

I think carefully about how to get around this. "But you wouldn't have to bet much Feliciano, I will give you very good odds." Feliciano screws his face up in confusion. "I have the advantage as I am the one making the bet, so if you beat me I will give you back much more money that you would give me."

Feliciano shifts awkwardly on his feet, "Well I do have five pounds that Lovino game me so I could get lunch. I suppose betting that would not be too bad, would it?"

I smile, "No, that would be perfect." I beckon Yao over, "Yao will make sure I don't cheat okay, he is my therapist and knows pretty much everything about me. He will ensure I don't lie."

"Oh Ivan, you don't have to do that, I know you would never lie to me."

I feel a warmth in the pit of my stomach and suddenly feel even more determined to help Feliciano.

"Okay Feli, the odds are…," I wonder if too high a number would be suspicious, Feliciano isn't exactly shrewd, but if they are too great even _he _might get a little suspicious. In the end I choose something high, but not _too _unthinkable. "The odds are 40:1, I want you to guess my _age_."

Without thinking Feliciano guesses, "Thirtysix."

Yao disguises a snort of laughter as a cough and I frown. Apparently I look at least ten years older than my age.

"Yes," I say weakly after a couple of minutes, "that's - that's right. I am thirtysix."

Felicano's eyes grow wide, "Wow, Lovino always said I shouldn't gamble because I always want to show Ludwig when I have a good hand, but he was wrong! Maybe I am really good at these guessing games!"

"Yes...yes you are." Thirtysix, I cannot believe it. Quickly, I snap myself out of my horror and resolve to buy some intensive moisturiser when I get home. "Well Feliciano, here are your winnings."

I hand him over two-hundred pounds and he gasps.

"Oh Ivan! That is very nice, but I couldn't take that much money away from you!" He thrusts the notes towards me and I turn up my hand.

"I made the bet Feliciano and you won them fair and square."

He looks unconvinced, "Are you sure.?

I smile, "Positive. Now you had better go, I can hear Lovino beeping from the car outside."

Feliciano jumps with surprise and then begins to panic "Oh yes, he has another job interview! I hope I have not made him late, Lovino gets very cranky when I make him late." He runs away from us to grab his coat, waving to us as he goes, "Bye Ivan, bye Yao! Thank you so much for the money I have won."

Yao laughs as he exits, before his voice takes on a more serious tone. "I hope he doesn't tell Lovino about this money."

I shrug, "Feliciano is sweet and simple, but he's not stupid. He knows his brother would get very angry if he told him and even if he does...I just hired Elizaveta."

Yao smirked, "True."

We maintain eye contact for a couple of moments and I feel my face burn as I remember the things he said about me during the meeting.

"Yao…" I begin tentatively, "those things you said today, about me being kind and brave...like Ludwig…"

Yao rolls his eyes, but his smile is warm and fond. "Of course I meant those things Ivan."

"Are you sure?"

Yao take a step forward. I flinch, but I resist the temptation to move back.

"More sure than I ever have been about anything else in my entire life."

He reaches out his hand and for the second time ever, our fingers touch.


	6. Session Six

**Session Four**

I decide to go on the pills.

Or rather, I was coerced into going on the pills. Either way I have started taking them - _sertraline, 100mg _daily, a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor. I have to admit initially I didn't like the sound of it, taking medicine for your mental health seems like a scary thing to have to do.

But...I was wrong.

The sertraline basically increases the amount of happy chemicals I have in my brain, it should make my intrusive thoughts easier to dismiss. That's all. Well, I say all...there _are _side effects, but they aren't anywhere near as psychotic or scary as I had imagined.

I try to express my positivity to Yao that evening. We're playing scrabble, he's winning because he knows a thousand psychological terms and words. Well, he _says _he knows them, although I'm starting to think he's cheating, 'stickittothemanneuosis' doesn't sound like a real disorder. But I enjoy spending time with him, so I don't mind.

"Remember Ivan, whilst these pills will help, they are only water wings. They will not eliminate the problem, but they will put you in a better mindset to deal with it. The goal is, of course, for you to be able to eventually cope without the pills."

I roll my eyes, he's changed his tune. "I think what you meant to say was, 'thank you Ivan for taking this medicine and doing something that terrified you on my bequest. That was really nice'."

Yao laughs, "I am proud of you for going on the pills and your improvement should speed up significantly. My point is that whilst medicine can be a great help, but you shouldn't rely on it - cognitive therapy is still important."

I grin a little. Yao is on the verge of a rant. I can feel my morals in the gutter, I decide to egg him on a little, "I don't know if I agree with medicating mental health…"

Yao really hates the attitude that taking pills or antidepressants make you 'weak' or prove 'you've given in.' So of course, I tease him mercilessly about it at every opportunity.

He stares at me in horror for a moment, before he catches on. Yao raises a disapproving eyebrow. "Honestly," he tuts. He knows I'm kidding, but he can't quite resist taking the bait and having a rant anyway.

"Is it weak for a diabetic to take insulin? Or for an asthma sufferer to have an inhaler? I honestly can't believe that…"

He continues on for about thirty minutes, only ceasing when he realises he's losing his lead in Scrabble. Believe it or not, I got off easy, these rants can sometimes go on for hours. I would be lying if I said I didn't sometimes tune out...but I never leave. Yao is glorious when he is passionate, all colour and movement and life. I wish desperately that I could cause that reaction.

* * *

At first my reaction to the pills is slow. I feel different, but it is a more uneasy kind of anxiety, as opposed to improvement. I irrationally worry that these would only work on a true patient and that the reason they don't work for me is because I truly am the monster I think I am.

"SSRI's take a couple of weeks to kick in," Yao soothes, "If they worked instantly you would be reacting to the placebo effect."

I groan and throw myself a small pity party. "Why is nothing ever easy for me?"

"Nothing is easy for anyone."

"Most people don't have OCD."

Yao thinks for a moment, "That IS true, but...I think most people have their problems. All the people with divorced parents, all the people worried about losing their jobs, failing in school...worrying that their children will fail in school, not to mention that one in every four people will experience a mental health problem at some point in their life -" He pauses his face flushing a little, before he looks away, "- and of course this affects the people who care about them."

I look away and Yao sighs deeply. "I am not trying to trivialise your mental health, what I'm trying to say is….everyone's a little fucked up."

"I'm more fucked up than most." I shrug.

Yao shakes his head," No, your thoughts are normal, you just care enough to worry about them."

I think for a moment and then something occurs to me that never has before; "If that really is true...then what intrusive thoughts have you had?"

"In my lifetime I have had many." A smirk cracks across his face.

I groan, "Why do you get to find yours funny? Mine are never funny, just distressing and insistent."

"Oh no, I think you'll find this one funny." I give Yao a questioning look and he continues, "I went for a walk in the park the other day and there was this bulldog with massive testicles and the first thought that popped into my head was 'wow, wouldn't it be great to have testicles that large.' I mean, these things were like space hoppers, to the point where his legs might have been purely for show… "

I laugh really hard for a couple of minutes, before finally I regain my composure. "I've never heard you speak like this before."

"I wanted to see if I could make you laugh. You don't laugh enough Ivan and I like to see you happy. You have a wonderful smile." Unexpectedly another laugh bubbles up through his mouth, "although that doesn't stop what I just told you from being completely true."

"Wow Yao." I feign shock and back away in mock fear. "That's pretty messed up."

Yao nods in fake shame, "I know. I really should see a psychiatrist about it."

He holds out his hand. I touch his fingers and feel the anxiety clench around my heart. I breath deeply, trying to think about the warmth of his fingers against mine, about that other strange feeling, the uncomfortable strain in my stomach. I try to think about Yao.

Without quite knowing why I do it, I press my hand into his and hold on tightly. Yao gasps.

With his gasp the fantasy cracks and I realise what I have done. Anxiety overtakes all my feelings and I yank my hand away.

"Oh Ivan, well done." Yao says softly.

"I couldn't." I reply unintelligibly "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? That was amazing. When we first started you wouldn't have even thought to do that."

"I wasn't thinking." I mumble.

"Even better! The fact that you were not monitoring every feeling, that you were just allowing yourself to live... that shows excellent progress. You should be remarkably proud."

As the anxiety begins to fade, I once again feel the warm touch of Yao's fingertips against my own. I still can't hold his hand and I still can't shake off this feeling of sickness. But...I don't push him away - I maintain contact.

Maybe I really am getting better.

* * *

**Elizaveta POV**

I toss and turn, but I can't sleep.

It's shocking, but for me these are the good times. The boundless energy, the ideas that crash into each other in a glorious explosion and the feeling that beyond anything I have the power to create. I feel as if I am more alive than anyone else, that I understand things other people could not even imagine, that I have so many thoughts and feelings that one person is not enough to contain them all.

Sometimes I feel _brilliant. _

But there is a price to pay, there is _always _a price to pay. Sometimes it's not joy and energy, sometimes its anger, irrational, _insane _anger. White hot at the front of my mind. Dividing and conquering and burning until I can feel little else.

I _hate _it.

Worse, I hate that positive or negative, anything I think about the world around me could be little more than a delusion. I can't trust my thoughts, because they could be _madness..._and I wouldn't know.

So far I haven't had any delusions, as far as I know, but I'm counting down the days. I'm terrified, absolutely scared out my wits that the things I think or feel could really be a lapse of sanity. And I wouldn't know it.

These are the ups. This is mania, the positive, better half of my bi-polar disorder. The part that can breed good, that can sometimes breed genius, despite some of the crazy that comes with it.

This is the part that I can just about learn to live with.

Then there are the lows. Longer, darker and much, much worse. I would say I feel dead, but it's more that I wish I was dead. Having to get out of bed and face people is nearly impossible for me, I can hate myself and my life and everyone I care about. When I look in the mirror and all I can see are scars, large greasy pores and slightly uneven teeth. All I can do is dwell on the past, the people I've hurt,..and the people that have hurt me.

I'm delighted that Ivan has given me this job. But I'm afraid.

I met the other guy who will be working my shifts with me, his name is Gilbert. Gilbert is _very _hot, very arrogant and very in denial about the death of Prussia as a nation. I like him.

So of course he has a boyfriend.

I met him when he came to pick Gilbert up at the end of his shift. Roderich _beautiful, _dark hair, fine clothes and a snippy, but elegant voice. He smells of expensive cologne and soap, he is delicate where Gilbert is coarse and at first I can't quite believe they are together. But then Gilbert gives him a hearty slap on the arse and climbs into the car and Roderich responds with a dirty look, but I realise it is a _good _dirty and suddenly things seem to slot into place. Suddenly they seem perfect for eachother.

I'm jealous.

When I was a little girl, I was rough and wild and my mother used to pick the brambles out my hair and laugh about how 'no man will ever be able to contain you.' At the time it was a compliment and I embraced it, even late into my teens, I couldn't be contained, I was a force to be reckoned with, I was that strong, that forceful and had that much personality that I could not be held down.

But then…

I got sick in a way I couldn't recover from and soon even I couldn't contain myself, and if I can't even control myself, well….I don't see any one man being able to tolerate me, let alone love me.

* * *

**Author note: Please, please, please give me feedback on Elizaveta! I have **_**much **_**less experience with bipolar disorder as I do OCD, and whilst I am trying my damndest to write it well and have spent several **_**days **_**researching, that cannot take the place of real struggle and experience. So, yea - feedback would be loved. **


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